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A 

SUCCESSFUL FAILURE 

Farce in One Act 



By GEORGE M. ROSENER 

Author of "Coast Folks," "Sleepy Hollow," "An Irish Eden,' 
"Relations," "Sheriff of Tuckahoe," "The Frozen Trail," etc. 



Copyright, 1912, by Dick & Fitzgerald 



NEW YORK 

DICK & FITZGERALD 

18 ANN STREET 



«•# 



™P96-0071 06 
©OLD' 30444 



Note. — The acting rights of this play are expressly 
reserved by the publishers, to whom theatrical managers 
who wish to produce it should apply. Amateur represen- 
tation may be made without such application and without 
charge. 

A 

SUCCESSFUL FAILURE 



CHARACTERS 

Jim Lane Cub reporter of The Gazette 

Lindy Page Star reporter of The Recorder 

Bell Boy 

Copy Boy 

NOTE. — Bell Boy and Copy Boy can double. 

Time. — The Present. Locality. — New York City. 

Time of Representation. — About thirty minutes. 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Lindy Page is a young woman of about twenty-five 
years. The character is played at times with quick and 
care-free manner, and at others it is sober and reserved; 
*1i fact, it is a part that requires no small amount of study 
to bring out the light and shade of the character. At the 



4 A Successful Failure 

opening scene Lindy is dressed in an evening gown and 
wears a decidedly red wig. Later she wears a plain coarse 
dress with white apron, black hair hanging down her 
shoulders. 

Jim Lane is about the same age as Lindy. To get an 
idea of the part, call to mind a young man, who, with all 
of his eight years in New York is still of a retiring nature, 
and when you realize that this young man is about to 
interview one of the ultra-ultra's society leaders and is 
thereby given the chance of his life by the paper he rep- 
resents, you will have an idea of the character. He is 
dressed in a business suit, cap, rain coat, bright red neck- 
tie, and tan shoes. Note book in left pocket, marked 
newspaper in right pocket. 

Bell Boy, first appearance in livery, later in ordinary 
clothes. 



PROPERTIES 



Bundle of manuscript and wrapping paper in desk 
drawer for Lindy. Watch, note book, newspaper and 
pencil for Lane. Tray, bottle, check and pencil for Bell 
Boy. Wine cooler, glasses and champagne bottle. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS 

As seen by a performer on the stage facing the audience, 
R. means right-hand; l., left-hand; c, center of stage; 
D. R. door right; d. r. c, door right in rear flat. 



A 
SUCCESSFUL FAILURE 



Scene. — A hotel private reception room or parlor, d. r. c. 
opening into hall. d. r. opening into another room. 
Window l., opening on street. Shade and curtains 
cover the window. A flat top writing desk with writing 
material and desk phone set a little l. of c. A chair on 
either side of desk. Table with books and an arm chair. 
Couch or settee is placed up stage a little L.ofc. Against 
the back wall about c. is a buffet well stocked. A few 
well selected pictures adorn the walls. If the furniture 
is all of the mission design it will lend much to the 
picture. Waltz music for rise. 

ENTER Lindy d. r. c, goes to window, raises shade and 
looks out. Starts toward desk, stops as if consider- 
ing some important point; goes back to buffet, picks up 
a bottle of champagne, goes to desk and takes up phone. 

Lindy. Hello! Send me up a bottle of cider. Wait 
a moment, listen, I want that light kind. Yes, that's it, 
champagne cider. Open the bottle and get it here as 
quickly as possible. (Hangs up receiver and returns to 
buffet. Takes silver wine cooler and pours the contents of 
the bottle of champagne into it. Knock at d. r. c.) Come 
in. (ENTER Bell Boy d. r. c. carrying tray, bottle, 
check and pencil) Bring that here, boy. (Boy goes down 
to desk. Lindy takes the bottle of cider and fills the cham- 
pagne bottle, holding it over the cooler) There we are! 
(Signs the check) Here, take this with you. (Hands 
the boy the cooler which he takes, and EXITS d. r. c. 



6 A Successful Failure 

Lindy places champagne bottle filled with cider on buffet 
and returns to desk. Picks up phone) Hello, give me 
Billie. Yes, Billie the night clerk. Hello, Is this you, 
Billie? Say, listen, if anyone calls asking for Mrs. Worth 
send them up to me, will you? Yes, I'm afraid that some 
of the other newspapers might have been put next that 
she is stopping here, and I want to keep them off until she 
gets out of town and our sheets go to press. No, no. There 
isn't one of them who would know her if they saw her. 
They only know that she has red hair. Now you — what? 
Yes, mine was black but I washed it and I went out before 
it was dry and it got rust}-. Yes. If any of those news- 
hunting dogs come around, send them to me, I'll make 
them think they are seeing things before they leave. 
Hello! Now do as I tell you, and I'll buy you the best 
segar you ever smoked when I see you again. What is 
that? Oh yes, send him up. Good-bye. (Hangs up re- 
ceiver, opens desk drawer and takes out a small package of 
manuscript. This she wraps up in piece of paper. Knock 
at d. r. c.) Come in. (Copy Boy ENTERS d. r. c, 
hat in hand. Lindy hands him manuscript) Here you are, 
Tom. Take this copy to Mr. Alexander as fast as your 
two legs and the subway can make it, and don't stop to 
even breathe until you are in the press room. Got it? 

Boy. Yep. 

Lindy. Hike. 

Boy. Right. Good night. [EXIT d. r. c. 

Lindy. Good night. (Telephone rings. She answers 
it) Hello, Yes. Oh, Mr. Alexander? Yes, Tom just 
left this minute with the copy. No. Mrs. Worth never 
once suspected that I was on any paper. Yes, she is 
leaving on the eleven-thirty for Chicago. What's that? 
Jim Lane is coming here to see Mrs. Worth? What sheet 
is he on? A cub for The Gazette? Oh, I see. Oh yes, I 
know him. He and I came from the same town in Vir- 
ginia, in fact, he was going to marry me once. He said 
he'd come back for me after he had been to the city and 
made his fortune, but like a lot of others he came to the 
city and the lights got into his brain, and made him forget 
all about the girl he left. Yes, I've seen him a hundred 



A Successful Failure 7 

times since then, but I never spoke to him. What's the 
use, eh? No, no. This is the last place he would expect 
to find me, and besides this red wig that I am wearing is 
good enough to disguise a snake. Yes. You can gamble 
that if any of the boys on the other papers come here to- 
night I will keep them here if I have to bind and gag them 
until the eleven-thirty with Mrs. Worth has left for Chicago. 
Wlien all the papers go to press to-night, take it from me 
that we will be the only one that will have a full account of 
the Worth divorce. All right. Good-bye. (Hangs up re- 
ceiver. Knock at d. r. c.) Come in. (ENTER Lane. 
Aside) It's Jim. (Regains her self-control) Good evening. 

Lane. I beg your pardon, but have I the honor of 
addressing Mrs. Worth? 

Lindy. Yes. Won't you be seated? 

Lane (sits l.). Thank you. I represent the — 

Lindy. Yes. You represent The Gazette. 

Lane (surprised). How did you know that? 

Lindy. I'm a mind reader. You are surprised? I 
will explain. I knew you were a reporter because I can 
see your note book sticking out of your left-hand pocket, 
and I knew you were on The Gazette because I can see 
that paper sticking out of your right-hand pocket all 
marked up where you have been making notes. Rather 
like Sherlock Holmes, don't you think? 

Lane (taking out note book and pencil). It is very 
clever, any way you put it. 

Lindy (aside). If I didn't hate him so much, I'd kiss 
him. 

Lane. Now about this divorce? 

Lindy (speaks as though her heart and mind were far 
away) . Divorce? 

Lane. Yes, when were you married? 

Lindy. I never was married. 

Lane. What? 

Lindy. No, he never came back for me, he never even 
wrote me a line. 

Lane. Then you have no husband? 

Lindy. Not that I'm aware of. Ah, it was cruel to 
leave me there all those weary months. 



8 A Successful Failure 

Lane. I really don't understand. You are Mrs. 
Worth? 

Lindy (comes out of her reverie with a start). Worth? 
Oh yes. What is it you would like to know? 

Lane. Now about your husband. 

Lindy. Which one? 

Lane. Have you had more than one? 

Lindy. Oh yes. Six, seven, or eight. 

Lane. Six or seven or eight! 

Lindy. Yes. You see after the sixth I stopped count- 
ing. 

Lane. Do I understand that you have been divorced 
more than eight times? 

Lindy. Oh dear, no. Now let me see. I was divorced 
four times, two died natural deaths, one was so young 
that his parents had the marriage annulled, and the 
others died from an overdose of arsenic. 

Lane. Arsenic? 

Lindy. Yes, they ate some biscuits that were covered 
with arsenic which I had laying about the house to des- 
troy the rats. 

Lane. Why should they eat them? 

Lindy. Who, the rats? 

Lane. No, your husbands. 

Lindy. I couldn't really say, unless they were troubled 
with rats. 

Lane. You are not in earnest. 

Lindy. Indeed I am. I often heard them complain 
of a gnawing in their stomachs. (A church clock chimes 
off l. Aside) Eleven-fifteen. In fifteen minutes we 
go to press. (Goes to buffet) Will you have some re- 
freshments? 

Lane. No thank you, I never drink while on duty. 

Lindy. A very good precept. (Pours out a tumbler oj 
cider from champagne bottle. Lane looks at the proceeding 
in amazement) You see I take a little of this every hour 
as a tonic. (Drinks from tumbler) 

Lane. If you call that a little tonic, just how much 
do you call a social glass? 

Lindy. Please don't talk to me for a moment. 



A Successful Failure 9 

Lane. Whj r not? 

Lindy. You see the bubbles get up in my nose and 
make me feel so funny. 

Lane (aside). This woman has murdered several of 
her husbands. If I can get the full story from her while 
she is under the influence of that champagne, I'll have a 
beat for The Gazette that will melt the type. (During 
the above speech Lindy comes down behind Lane and reaches 
out her arms as if to embrace him. Lane turns and sees 
her, starts to his feet and darts over r. somewhat frightened) 
I wonder if she is trying to fix me. 

Lindy (laughs hysterically, pretending she is slightly 
intoxicated). I was just trying to tickle you. (Crosses 
to r. Lane still trying to keep out of her way crosses l.) 

Lane. I'll bet she was trying to choke me. 

Lindy (indicating Lane's necktie). I beg your pardon, 
but is your throat cut or is your neck on fire? 

Lane. That is my necktie. 

Lindy. Is that so? I thought it was a danger signal. 

Lane (aside). The champagne is beginning to take 
effect. 

Lindy (indicating Lane's russet shoes). Will you kindly 
chase those yellow rabbits out of the room? 

Lane. Rabbits? Where? 

Lindy. There. Those two rabbits you are standing on. 

Lane. These are my shoes. 

Lindy. You don't mean it really. I don't know how 
you can ever forgive me. Now if I had seen you crossing 
the street I should have stopped my motor before it hit 
you. Oh, forgive me! Do say you will forgive me. (At- 
tempts to embrace Lane. He darts to other side of stage) 

Lane. Yes, yes, I'll forgive you of course. Only please 
sit down and calm yourself. 

Lindy (aside). I don't know how I'm acting this part, 
but I'm beginning to feel silly. (To Lane) Will you 
please tell me the correct time? 

Lane (looking at watch). Eleven-twenty-two. 

Lindy (aside). In eight more minutes the Recorder 
will be on. 

Lane (aside). If my story don't go to press to-night, 



10 A Successful Failure 

to-morrow will do just as well. A big beat is worth waiting 
for. (To Lindy) Mrs. Worth. (No answer) Mrs. 
Worth. (No answer) Mrs. Worth! 

Lindy (starts and turns quickly). Oh, I beg your par- 
don, I thought you said Berth, and it quite unnerved me. 
You see Berth was my first husband's name. Yes, Berth. 
He was named after a Pullman car. 

Lane. Named after a Pullman car? After a Pullman 
car did you say? 

Lindy. Oh yes. You see he kept himself closed all 
day and at night he opened up. You understand? 

Lane. Indeed yes. You mean by that, that he never 
took a drink until after six o'clock. (Laughs uproariously 
at his own joke, looks up and observes that Lindy is glaring 
at him) Eh, w-w-w-w-what's the matter? 

Lindy. I'll have you understand that the lips that 
have touched liquor never did touch mine. 

Lane (aside). I wonder if she is kidding me. (Very 
business like) Mrs. Worth, let us resume our business. 

Lindy. Oh, of course. Do you know, your face is 
very familiar to me? 

Lane. And I had just been thinking where I had seen 
you before. (They become very confidential, and for the 
time being Lindy forgets that she is supposedly intoxicated) 

Lindy. Do you like newspaper work? 

Lane. Yes, but you see I'm only a cub. I don't get 
more than a million a week, you know. Say, some time 
ago I went forty-eight hours without a mouthful to eat. 

Lindy (with feeling) . Jim! 

Lane. What? 

Lindy. I beg your pardon, that's a habit I have. I — I 
call most every one of my friends by that name. Silly 
habit, isn't it? 

Lane (ignoring her explanation). I've been in New 
York for eight long years and I'm still what I was then, 
a rank outsider. I guess my folks at home often wonder 
and worry about me. 

Lindy. Have you never even written them? 

Lane. After the first year, not a line. 

Lindy. Why, they will probably think you are dead. 



A Successful Failure 11 

Lane. Well, I'm the same thing, and worse. I'm a 
failure. Gee, in New York they will forgive a man any 
crime on the calendar, but if he is a failure, the go-by is 
the best he will get and "poor devil" is the sentence that 
the world places on him for his crime. 

Lindy. Have you no friends? 

Lane. Gee, if a man has only one real friend, he can't 
be a failure. 

Lindy. Why don't you go home to your folks? 

Lane. What? Go home and say the city whipped me? 
Go home and get "I told you so" from a bunch of home 
guards who never moved far enough away from the 
kitchen stove to cool their blood? Ah, no. I'd sooner 
starve and live in a live town, than eat three regulars in a 
burg and live in hell. 

Lindy. Parents living? 

Lane. Father. Mother's dead. 

Lindy. Brothers or sisters? 

Lane. Two brothers. 

Lindy. Living? 

Lane. No. Both married. 

Lindy. But you have other near relations? 

Lane. But not near enough to touch. 

Lindy. Isn't there a girl in your story? There usually 
is a woman at the bottom of all hard luck stories. 

Lane. In my story she is at the top. But that's an- 
other story and the only one in my life wherein I played 
the part of a dog. No matter how far down and out I go, 
no matter how hard fate kicks me, I have only to think 
of that girl down home and then realize that all I am getting 
is coming to me. 

Lindy. It seems strange that a young man like you 
cannot get on in a big city like this. 

Lane. Get on? That's just it. Every job I get, I 
last just about a week and then I get on. I've been getting 
on and getting off for eight years in this burg. Why, 
I've had so many jobs that lately when I take a new one, 
I meet myself coming out. 

Lindy. Now about this girl — 

Lane. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk 



12 A Successful Failure 

about her. You see the memory of her is the only thing 
I can keep to myself without fear of some day handing it 
to the pawn broker. 

Lindy. Would you know that girl down home if you 
saw her? 

Lane. Know her? 

Lindy. Eight years is a long time, you know, and she 
may have changed considerably in that time. 

Lane. Look here, if that girl was in this room now 
all wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy, I wouldn't 
have to see her or hear her talk to know that she was near, 
I could feel her presence, I tell you. I haven't spoken of 
her to a living soul in eight years, that is except to you, 
and even these few words that I have had with you about 
her make me feel that she is near. 

Lindy. Is that so? And you still love her? 

Lane. Yes, if you can call the most sincere feeling 
and reverence of a "no good" like me by that name. 

Lindy. And you — you — have never written to the 
girl either? 

Lane. No. 

Lindy. Why not? 

Lane. You see I waited until I could tell her some 
good news. I kept putting it off until I — well, until I 
lost confidence in myself and — and — Oh, what's the use! 
It's all over now. But do you know, I think if I could 
only hear her speak, if I could only see her for just a 
minute, I could turn all my hard luck into experience and 
be a success at that. 

Lindy. I see. Then you do really long for her. You 
are really lonely and — 

Lane. Lonely? As Mark Twain said, "Sometimes 
I'm as lonely as God." 

Lindy. Have you the correct time? 

Lane (looking at watch). Eleven-twenty-seven. 

Lindy (aside). Three minutes more. 

Lane (as if to himself) . She's sobering up. 

Lindy (aside). I'm getting sober. (Pours out another 
large drink from champagne bottle and drinks) Dear me, 
I declare, that went right to my head. Do you know, a 



A Successful Failure 13 

little champagne puts me right in my natural element. 
(Again pretends to be under the influence of wine) 

Lane (getting back to business). Mrs. Worth, you can 
do me a great favor. 

Lindy. I should be pleased to. 

Lane. I was sent here to get the story of your impend- 
ing divorce. From remarks that you have let fall I take 
it that you have had rather a life of adventure, if you 
will pardon my saying so. I have waited until it is too 
late to get your story in the edition now going to press, 
in the hope that I might get a bigger story and one that 
will make a name for me. If I fail in this, I am down and 
out, because in the vocabulary of a newspaper man there 
is no such phrase as "I couldn't.'' When you are sent 
to get a story, you either get it or give up your job to 
someone who can. 

Lindy. Proceed with your questions. 

Lane (taking notes). May I ask what your first hus- 
band worked at? 

Lindy. None of them worked. 

Lane. I beg your pardon. 

Lindy. The first one was an English lord. 

Lane. And the second? 

Lindy. He was a pick-pocket. 

Lane. Great Scott! And the third? 

Lindy. A lawyer. 

Lane. And the fourth? 

Lindy. An actor. 

Lane. And — 

Lindy. And the others worked in the City Hall. Ah, 
but I forgot number five. He was an honest man. 

Lane. And what did number five work at? 

Lindy. He never worked. 

Lane. Have you ever had any children? 

Lindy. Have I ever had any children? Let me think! 

Lane. Let you think? 

Lindy. Of course. You don't expect me to remember 
every little thing in my life, do you. 

Lane. No, no, Of course not. 

Lindy. Oh yes, I've had seven children. 



14 A Successful Failure 

Lane. What were they? 

Lindy. Eh? 

Lane. I say, what were your children? 

Lindy. They were babies at one time, but they out- 
grew that. 

Lane. Perhaps I do not make myself clear. You say 
you had seven children. I mean, were they boys or girls? 

Lindy. They were sort of a-a-a-a sort of a mixture. 
Yes, but all one color. 

Lane (aside) . I wonder if this woman is mad. 

Lindy. I know what you are thinking about. 

Lane. Do you? 

Lindy. Yes, you are wondering whether you shall 
kiss me or not. (Lane starts) Don't you do it, or I will 
call for help. (Screams in a feeble voice) Help! Help! 
There, come one step nearer and I will scream like that 
again and arouse the guests. Whee, when the bubbles 
of that champagne get mixed with my hair, I feel just as 
if I didn't care whether I took another husband or not. 

Lane. Mrs. Worth, won't you please tell me more 
about your husbands? 

Lindy. Oh pshaw, why talk about the dead ones. 

Lane. But your last husband, Mr. Worth, he's not 
dead. 

Lindy. Not yet, but soon. 

Lane. On what grounds are you getting this divorce? 

Lindy. On the grounds of highway robbery. 

Lane. I don't understand. 

Lindy. He was held up by a stage robber, and I found 
it out. 

Lane. This is interesting. Do you know the robber's 
name? Stage robber, eh? 

Lindy. I don't know the stage robber's name, but 
she was with some burlesque show. Look here, you want 
a story for your paper? I'll give you one. Sit here. 
(Lane sits on edge of desk with back to stage c. At his right 
is the phone. Lindy stands c, behind. Lane. By degrees, 
during the speech, she casts off all affectation of being under 
influence of champagne and works the scene up to an emo- 
tional dramatic climax. Music until final curtain) I'll 



A Successful Failure 15 

tell you a story. The one that affected my whole life. 
I loved a man once, really loved him, and though I was 
only a girl then I had already learned the full meaning 
of the word. He left me in a little country town, and — 
(Lane turns and looks at her) Similar to your own story, 
isn't it? (Lane goes back to his notes) He promised that 
he would return and marry me when he made his fortune. 
I waited — I waited days, months, years, but no word 
ever came, yet I trusted him. Oh, the agony of those 
years! The long hours spent alone with tears, doubt 
and fear, that ever gnawing, that ever craving here for 
just one word, the heart that sometimes was on the verge 
of breaking — unrealized hopes, temptations, a forgotten 
and a despised love all bearing in on my soul until I prayed 
to die. Then came the call of the world and I left my home, 
I mingled with the men and women of a big city. It was 
then I learned the true lesson of this false sense called 
life, it was then that I realized how easy it is for a man 
to forget and for a woman to suffer. I laughed and I 
drank, and I forgot with the others. Then when the 
lights were out and when the laughter ceased, when I was 
alone with my love and my God, then would come the 
old agony a thousand fold stronger and I suffered again, 
and how I suffered no one but He and I will ever know. 
And for what, for whom? For a man whom I loved and 
who had forgotten me — forgotten me — forgotten me. 
(Falls on couch sobbing) 

Lane (starts toward her). Mrs. Worth. (Goes back 
to his former position) 

Lindy (rising). I beg your pardon. I lost myself for 
a moment. You will excuse me. [EXIT d. r. 

Lane. Gee, how her story hit home with me. Oh, 
I'm a contemptible cad. If I had only written Lindy, 
who knows, I might be something now. We can all kid 
the fair sex, but there comes a time in every man's life 
when a woman's advice is better than his own judgment. 
Gee, but the old days come back to me to-night, I can see 
Lindy now. I can see her waiting for me by her old home. 
Her long black hair hanging down her shoulders, her 
plain coarse dress with the white apron. I can almost 



16 A Successful Failure 

hear her say "I've been waitin' fer yo all, Jim, here's a 
peach for you." And I gave her up — for what? — for 
what? For a bunch of white lights and a bundle of false 
pride. (Phone rings and Lane answers it) Hello! Yes, 
this is Mrs. Worth's apartment. Yes. Is that you, Mr. 
Raymond? This is Lane. Why, Mrs. Worth is here. 
What? Mrs. Worth has left for Chicago? I've been sold. 
The Recorder has gone to press with the whole story? 
But Mr. Raymond, let me explain. (Rattles the hook on 
phone) Mr. Raymond. Mr. Raymond. Look here — 
he's gone. I've lost the best chance I ever had. I've 
lost the biggest beat of the year. I'm a failure again. 
A failure again. (Drops head in arms on desk) 

ENTER Lindy d. r. and goes to c. She is dressed exactly 
as Lane described her when she lived down home. 

Lindy. You have lost the biggest beat of the year, 
Jim. (Lane looks up) But here's a peach waiting for 
you. 

Lane (in a whisper). Lindy! 

Lindy. I've been waiting a long time for you all, Jim. 

Lane (crosses to Lindy and kneels at her feet) Lindy ! 
Lindy! 

CURTAIN 





$$$$ss$$$$s&$$$$$s$$$$$$$ 



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AUNT DINAH'S QUILTING PARTY. 1 Scene 5 11 

BACHELOR MAIDS' REUNION. 1 Scene 2 30 

IN THE FERRY HOUSE. 1 Scene; 1^ hours 19 15 

JAPANESE WEDDING. 1 Scene; lhour 3 10 

MATRIMONIAL EXCHANGE. 2 Acts; 2 hours 6 9 

OLD PLANTATION NIGHT. 1 Scene; 1*4 hours 4 4 

YE VILLAGE SKEWL OF LONG AGO. 1 Scene. 13 12 

FAMILIAR FACES OF A FUNNY FAMILY 8 11 

JOLLY BACHELORS. Motion Song or Recitation 11 

CHRISTMAS MEDLEY. 30 minutes 15 14 

EASTER TIDINGS. 20 minutes 8 

BUNCH OF ROSES. (15 cents.) 1 Act; 1J^ hours 1 13 

OVER THE GARDEN WALL. (15 cents) 11 8 




DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 18 Ann Street, N 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




COMEDIES AND 

25 CENTS EA( 




016 103 828 3 # 

BREAKING HIS BONDS. 4 Acts; 2 hours 6 3 W 

BUTTERNUT'S BRIDE. 3 Acts; 2^ hours 11 6 j| 

COLLEGE CHUMS. 3 Acts; 2 hours; 1 Stage Setting 9 3$ 

COUNT OF NO ACCOUNT. 3 Acts; 2^ hours 9 4 

DEACON. 5 Acts; 2)4 hours. 8 6 

DELEGATES FROM DENVER. 2 Acts; 45 minutes 3 10 

DOCTOR BY COURTESY. 3 Acts; 2 hours 6 5 

EASTSIDERS, The. 3 Acts; 2 hours; 1 Stage Setting 8 4 

ESCAPED FROM THE LAW. 5 Acts; 2 hours 7 4 

GIRL FROM PORTO RICO. 3 Acts; 2^ hours 5 3 

GYPSY QUEEN. 4 Acts; 2)4 hours 5 3 

IN THE ABSENCE OF SUSAN. 3 Acts; 1)4 hours 4 6 

JAIL BIRD. 5 Acts; 2% hours 6 3 

JOSIAH'S COURTSHIP. 4 Acts; 2 hours 7 4 

MY LADY DARRELL. 4 Acts; 2% hours 9 6 

MY UNCLE FROM INDIA. 4 Acts; 2)4 hours 13 4 

NEXT DOOR. 3 Acts; 2 hours 5 4 

PHYLLIS'S INHERITANCE. 3 Acts; 2 hours 6 9 

REGULAR FLIRT. 3 Acts; 2 hours 4 4 

ROGUE'S LUCK. 3Acts;2hours 5 3 

SQUIRE'S STRATAGEM. 5 Acts; 2)4 hours 6 4 

STEEL KING. 4 Acts; 2% hours 5 3 

WHAT'S NEXT? 3 Acts; 2% hours 7 4 

WHITE LIE. 4Acts; 2% hours 4 3 



WESTERN PLAYS 

25 CENTS EACH 

ROCKY FORD. 4Acts;2hours 8 

GOLDEN GULCH. 3 Acts; 2% hours 11 

RED ROSETTE. 3Acts;2hours 6 

MISS MOSHER OF COLORADO. 4 Acts; 2^ hours... 5 

STUBBORN MOTOR CAR. 3 Acts; 2 hours; 1 Stage Setting 7 

CRAWFORD'S CLAIM. (15 cents.) 3 Acts; 2^4 hours. 9 




DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 18 Ann Street, N. Y 




